Join the poets in Cordoba

At times I wish to be a simple tourist here in Andalusia and visit city after city. If I had time on my hands, Cordoba would be on my agenda tomorrow. Only two days ago, I learnt that an international poetry festival will be held there until April 19th with lots of activities, workshops and poetry reciting in the streets, in the bars and even in the local jail ! This brilliant project is the initiative of its current director Manuel Perez who created The Festival Cosmopoetica in 2004. As he says the aim of the festival is to bring back this lost art to the city. I also like his further declaration : "Poetry deals with vital human emotions. It doesn't need to be pretentious and open only to an elite group".
Among the various workshops, two caught my special attention because of their originality. The Fútbol y Poesia (Football and Poetry) workshop features a series of conferences and reciting of poetry related to football with the participation of footballers and poets who are fond of this sport. What a fantastic angle to approach football! Another workshop is Dulces Versos (Sweet Verses) which presents cakes and pastries illustrating various poems. Very tempting to me....
There is no doubt Cordoba is very inspiring for this kind of event but then I'm certain we can find poetry in everything and all things.

I've got a few notebooks where I write down some of my favorite poems or verses. My taste may sound boring, I'm forever fascinated by Pushkin's Eugene Onegin. I'm seduced by the languid sensuality of Saint-John Perse, the lulling rhythm of Aimé Césaire and the poetical prose of Marguerite Duras.

But for now, I will leave you with the famous verses of Spanish poet Antonio Machado :

Caminante, son tus huellas el camino, y nada màs,

caminante no hay camino, se hace camino al andar.

Al andar se hace camino, y al volver la vista atràs

se ve la senda que nunca se ha de volver a pisar.

Caminante no hay camino, sino estelas en la mar

Wanderer, your footsteps are the road and nothing more;

wanderer there is no road, the road is made by walking.

By walking one makes the road, and upon glancing behind

one sees the path that will never be trod again.

Wanderer, there is no road,

only wakes upon the sea

Festival Cosmopoetica in Cordoba april 14th-april 19th
1st pic found here
2nd pic my 1st collection of notebooks by Ève Morcrette